(Just Wishing for a) Cheeseburger in Paradise
by Pir8grl
Summary: For the ficcingcaptaincanary prompt: "Cooking." For some strange reason (rolls eyes and whistles innocently) I've got things like oceans and shipwrecks and desert islands on the brain. Thanks (as always) to the super-awesome Jael.


Leonard Snart coughed and spluttered before finally managing to draw in a deep breath. His clothes were soaked and there was definitely sand in places sand had no business being. He heard an odd noise, and turned his head to see a gorgeous blonde, dressed in a rather utilitarian black sports bra and panties, sharpening a stick into a spear. She already had a stack of them beside her. He shook his head sharply and groaned.

"Good. You're not dead," Sara Lance informed him, laughter underlying her tone.

"Are you sure about that?"

"You're making too much noise."

"How did I get…wherever the hell it is that we are?"

Sara just looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Riiiight. Uh…thank you. Where the hell are your clothes?" he couldn't help mumbling.

"Drying. Wet jeans are not terribly comfy."

Snart gave a noncommittal groan, realizing that she was right. He was also nowhere near as comfortable with near nudity as she was. But the soaked sweater and boots definitely needed to go. He rolled himself to a rather wobbly sitting position and tried to claw the sweater up over his head. He needed her help to do it. Peachy.

Without a word, Sara shook out the sweater and draped it over a bush to dry. Then she knelt by his feet and began to pry his boots and socks off.

"Comms?" he finally gathered the thought power to ask.

"They don't like salt water. I'm sure the ship will be back…as soon as they're able."

"Is that what you told yourself back in Harmony Falls?" Snart said, before he could think to censor himself.

"Yeah." Sara bit her lip, then returned to her spot on the sand and picked up her knife and her stick again.

"Where are we?"

"Some island," Sara shrugged.

"I can see that."

"It's not Lian Yu. Beyond that, I couldn't tell you."

Snart laid a gentle hand on her back, knowing that some, at least, of the scars beneath his fingertips were souvenirs of that hellhole of an island.

"What exactly are you planning to do with that?" he asked, nodding to the sharpened stick in her hands.

"Catch us some dinner. There's fish in the surf."

Snart turned an interesting shade of green.

"Are you all right?" Sara asked. "I didn't seen any injuries -"

"Not a fan of sushi."

"Than I suggest you learn how to build a fire."

"Fine. Got any charcoal and lighter fluid?"

Sara chuckled and rolled to her feet with her usual grace. "Can you find some firewood at least?" she demanded with fond exasperation.

"S'pose so. Aren't you going to put some clothes on?"

"Why? It's not like there's anyone to see anything. Besides, are you objecting to the view?"

"Not in the slightest. But you might, if you're in the sun for too long."

"Then I'll hunt quickly." She turned back and eyed him critically. "Firewood is dead, and located on the ground."

"I'm not actually stupid," Snart protested.

She shot him a death-glare before continuing. "There's a freshwater stream a hundred yards in that direction. _**Do not**_ pee in it."

OK, that was just being insulting.

"And don't eat the pretty pink berries, either." With that parting shot, Sara headed off out of the dubious shade and onto the beach.

* * *

"This looks so easy in the movies," Snart grumbled as he rubbed two sticks together.

"I told you, firewood is dead, not green," Sara said, stepping back into their little clearing. She was carrying a bunch of fishes shish kabob'ed onto a spear, and a flaming torch.

"How the hell did you manage that?" Snart growled.

Sara shook back her hair, revealing one crystal earring. The other was missing. "Used it as a prism to start a fire while I was fishing."

"Name your gemstone, and I'll replace those for you, just as soon as we get back to civilization," Snart promised her fervently.

"Aw, that's sweet," Sara teased.

"Necklace, too," he added with a wink. Hell, he'd … _ **acquire**_ …a whole damn parure for her if they got out of this mess intact.

Sara leaned down and kissed the top of his head, then passed him the stick full of dead fish. "Here. Hold this while I get the fire sorted."

Snart stared into the dead fishy eyes and swallowed. Hard.

* * *

Fish kabobs, Snart decided lazily, weren't so bad after all. At least after Sara took care of the nasty bits…like the heads and guts. He really didn't think he'd last longer than a day in a place like this without her. He glanced down at Sara, who lay with her head on his shoulder, and one arm draped across his stomach. He drifted off to the sound of waves on the shore and hum of insects which he sincerely hoped were not of the biting persuasion.

* * *

He started awake to the sound of voices bellowing his name.

"Snart! Sara!"

"Over here, Mick," he yelled, trying to disentangle himself from a sleepy assassin, and wondering if they had time to grab a bit more clothing before Mick and whoever was with him -

\- burst into their little clearing.

"You two look cozy," the pyro observed gleefully.

"Shut up," Sara growled, sitting up and revealing that she had spent rather more time than intended in the sun yesterday.

"Let's get you to medbay," Ray said, offering a concerned smile and a hand up.

Snart figured she must really be hurting, since she accepted the assistance.

"I'm guessing you two could use a good meal," Mick observed gruffly.

"I wanna cheeseburger," Sara informed him.

"I want a filet mignon," Snart added, one upping her with a sly smirk.

"Fine. Whatever," Mick grunted, pulling Snart up. "Surf and turf it is."

Sara laughed as Snart turned greenish yet again and made a fervent noise of disgust.

 _ **"No**_ surf," he told the amused Mick and baffled Ray, "if it's all the same to you."


End file.
